


The Game

by DeadlyBingo



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 15:49:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6572239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadlyBingo/pseuds/DeadlyBingo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity may have returned to the team, but she hasn’t officially returned to Oliver.  Despite this, the whole team knows it’s only a matter of time.  And until then, the stubborn couple is competing to see who will crack first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Game

There was no mystery to the game Oliver and Felicity were playing now.

Felicity had returned to the team full-time less than two weeks ago. A few risky situations had brought her back for the occasional mission before that, but it wasn’t until she had some proper time away, and a couple very honest conversations with Oliver, that she truly felt ready to return to the bunker.

The pair had agreed to remain just friends, build back up their trust, learn how to work as a team without taking it too far… but that plan didn’t last long. Cracking open a celebratory bottle of wine after a long mission had been their downfall. They had one slip up, quickly followed by another one, and now they were flying down the hill on a bike with no brakes. Oliver now knew that being just friends had stopped being an option back in Nanda Parbat (if it ever was an option); but, despite both knowing where they were headed, both he and Felicity remained too stubborn to break their whispered challenge of ‘this won’t happen again.’

Therefore, it had turned into a game. A competition to see who would crack and break their promise first.

And damn was Felicity playing that game well.

Oliver’s moves were always big. A well timed jog past her apartment in the morning, some not so subtle innuendos, a lingering hand on her back as he leaned in to see surveillance on her computer monitor. But Felicity played it smart. Of course she did. Every action was small, even deniable, but the moves were constant. Regular reminders that built one on top of another that made it damn near impossible to go through an hour without making Oliver consider begging her to take him back and head off to the nearest broom closet.

A week ago her play was that pen, that bright red pen that always seemed to be dangling from her pink lips, even if she was never writing with it. Oliver found himself transfixed, staring at her mouth and struggling to focus on whatever the people around him were saying. On more than one occasion his sister had smacked his arm to force him to refocus on her and Oliver found himself apologizing as he still struggled not to look at the pen, or the lips it was attached to.

After that was Felicity’s constant need to fix something under her workstation, which always resulted in Felicity on her knees, ass in the air, and popping her head under her desk as she fiddled with wires and hummed to herself. At least twice Oliver found himself needing to walk away in the middle of a conversation before he could even attempt to regain his train of thought.

Now, well now it was just painful. Felicity’s newest strategy, not that she would ever admit it, was that damn perfume. It had been the very scent lingering on her skin in Nanda Parbat. The same one she took, for nostalgia sake, with them on their trip around the world. The exact fragrance she would spritz on the bed when she had to leave early for work and wanted to make sure Oliver woke up thinking of her (the smell had lingered for weeks after she left).

Recently the scent seemed to be everywhere in the lair. Not heavily, just enough to drive Oliver insane. Other than a confused glance from Thea when she handed Oliver his coat one night, no one else seemed to notice the smell. But Oliver was distracted by it at every turn. His towel in the locker room, his seat around the lair’s table, his clothes when he went to change back after a mission, they all had a hint of Felicity’s scent. Heck, he even got a wiff of it at the top of the salmon ladder.

It didn’t take long for Oliver to have to fight off the images of him on his knees, proclaiming Felicity the winner of their competition, and begging her to end his pain.

So there was only one option. Oliver had to up his game; he had to fight back and win. Fast.

* * *

 

He was teasing her. She knew he was teasing her. But it was still nearly impossible not to give in and look up with each clang of the salmon ladder, especially when it was accompanied by one of his grunts.

Damn those grunts. How was he doing this for so long anyway? The team had just returned from a mission, wasn’t he already tired?

The noises seemed louder these days than before the break up, but she couldn’t tell if Oliver was being louder on purpose or if she was just extra sensitive to those sounds. But she held strong ...at least she did when Oliver was looking.

But when he was moving up a rung, and his eyes were focused above him, Felicity would glance up from her work station and take a quick peek. One look and she would focus on his arms, another look his pecks, another look his abs (damn were there more than a few weeks ago?), and so on and so forth. Sure, she felt guilty that she couldn’t just ignore his teasing, but what he didn’t know didn’t hurt her. And hopefully he was getting a wiff of her perfume every time he hit that top rung. Thank goodness for drones.

“I think I could make it another round,” Oliver mused, hanging from the lowest rung as his eyes focused above him, rather than on Felicity.

“Whatever makes you happy,” Felicity challenged, praying that her confidence overshadowed the temptation in her voice.

“It does.”

Oliver made sure she saw his smile before he started moving back up the ladder, his grunts unmistakably louder this time.

Felicity felt her skin flush as he once again began climbing the ladder. She had to give in. It made the most sense. She was the one to break off the engagement. So she was also the one to ask him to reinstate it. Or at least to start dating. Or even just a quick screw in the locker room showers. That had been fun the previous week. They could take a quick shower and talk about the relationship after she could think again-

No.

She couldn’t give in. That was the abs making her talk. And the sweat. And those noises… how did anyone hear him make those noises and ever retain any self-control?

* * *

 

“Why the hell does my towel smell like perfume?” John questioned loudly, making Felicity jump as the locker room door shut behind him.

“Um, what? Excuse me?” Felicity stuttered, shaking her head as John approached her.

“Actually, ignore that question. I know why. Because you’re both stubborn as hell and don’t want to admit you’re desperate to end whatever crap you have going on lately.” John tried to sound as frustrated as he could, working to keep any hint of a smile or amusement off his face. The game Oliver and Felicity had been playing the last week or two had been entertaining at first, the subject of many conversations with Thea, but now it was time to end. Oliver rarely wore shirts anymore, Felicity’s skirts were losing an inch a day, and even he couldn’t ignore the tension that had been growing between the two by the hour. So, as usual, it was his job to give these two the push they needed. He deserved a special shout-out at the wedding.

Felicity crossed her arms, staring John down before replying, “I’m not stubborn.”

“And I’m about as easy going as they come,” Oliver retorted with a smirk as he dropped to the ground from the salmon ladder. As Oliver stood up he cracked his neck to poorly disguise a glance at Felicity. Damn, the kid was even less obvious now than before the first time they went out.

“I notice that neither of you easy-going people denied wanting to get back together,” he noted, making sure to make eye contact with both Oliver and Felicity before continuing. “I could talk to you two separately, but honestly, both Lyla and Thea thought it would be a waste of time since you’re both so… not stubborn. Therefore, I’m just going to say what I have to say then move on.” John paused to make sure he still had the full attention of both of his friends. “I honestly don’t think I’ve ever saw such blatant flirting in my entire life. And, to be honest, I’m sick of seeing Oliver parading everywhere without a shirt. We get it, man, you work out. Also, Thea said the perfume smell all over the bunker is giving her headaches, Felicity, hence why she rushes home after missions now. And I’m not even going to touch the comments you two think are socially acceptable to make in public. So I’m speaking up for the rest of your team. We tried to ignore your games, we really did, but we’ve made the decision for you. It’s time to end whatever this is and just get back together.”

“We’re not- You can’t-” Felicity started to argue, but she quickly cut herself off, her eyes looking to Oliver.

To John’s surprise, and relief, Oliver didn’t argue either. He just smirked and looked back to Felicity, both of them holding their eye contact for a moment before returning their attention to John.

“Now, I’m going to head home to my family. You two are going to go out to dinner and talk. Get whatever you need to out of your system and get on the same page. This team is strongest when we’re all focused and at our best. And you two are at your best when you’re together. So, for the sake of all of our sanities, and hell, for the city, let’s end whatever war this is.”

“You’re really playing the, ‘we need to get together for the good of the city’ card, John?” Oliver questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Damn straight,” he confirmed with a nod as he headed toward the elevator, “Sometimes you have to play dirty. Now have a good night and I’ll see both of you, fully clothed, tomorrow.”


End file.
